


Took You Long Enough

by latesummerfire



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, Forehead Kisses, Hair Playing, M/M, post-not-apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 03:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20037370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latesummerfire/pseuds/latesummerfire
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley hang out in the bookshop post-not-apocalypse. Confessions are made.





	Took You Long Enough

The demon watched in amusement as his angel prattled on about how gorgeous the world was, and how humans are capable of such great things and they’re more often than not overshadowed by all the bad they do, and there are actual tears brimming his eyes at this point as he talks which such excitement, and yet it’s obvious he’s touched deeply by it.

And they’re not even drunk yet. Not even halfway through their first bottle.

Crowley’s stopped paying attention to what Aziraphale is even saying at this point. He’s just content to listen to his voice, to breathe the same air, to gaze upon his best friend in all his outdated attire and rosy cheeks … eventually, the angel catches on.

Crowley only realized when Aziraphale reached over and touched his wrist gently.

“Are you alright, my dearest?” 

“M’fine,” Crowley mumbled, grateful to be hidden behind his dark glasses, and he shrugged as he took another swig of his wine, “Just … _fine_.”

“Something’s bothering you.”

“Well, we did just witness the almost-end-of-the-world, I _guess_ I’m allowed to experience some aftershock, don’t you?” He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“It’s understandable,” Aziraphale agreed, and placed his glass on the end table, his hands now free to pat his legs in anticipation as he winced slightly, “Would you like to … or are we not drunk enough for -“

Before he could finish his sentence, Crowley had casually spun himself around and plopped his head onto the angel’s lap as if he were a pillow. He’d landed so heavily that the angel “oomf”d in surprise, followed by laughter. The demon’s wine glass, still clutched in one hand, sloshed dangerously and spilled a bit onto his jacket and the couch as well, but the angel didn’t chastise him for it (this time.)

They’ve done this before, again, only when they were properly drunk. Crowley would’ve never attempted such a thing sober - Aziraphale always seemed somewhat uncomfortable when it came to being in such close proximity, let alone how intimate a move this was. But given the events of the almost-ocalypse, he’d been through enough to let those walls down. And Crowley would be damned twice over if he didn’t take advantage of this. However, he wasn’t going to impose anything on the angel without consent. He was overjoyed that Zira had been the one to suggest it in the first place. Any step forward was an improvement in his book.

And besides, being part reptilian, he’d never turn down something so soft and warm.

Aziraphale habitually ran his fingers through Crowley’s short red hair, and halted almost immediately. He’d forgotten - they weren’t well enough drunk for this, and he retracted his hand with a nervous laugh. He wasn’t fast enough, however, and Crowley caught his hand in his, and pressed it to the side of his face.

“S’alright, angel.” Crowley murmured, turning his head to place a kiss to his palm, a gesture which caused his peachy skin to flush a deep red, “Go ahead.”

A shy grin crossed Aziraphale’s face, and he relaxed. Crowley released his hand as he snuggled in closer, determined to get more comfortable. He folded his arms across his chest, a way to silently show the angel that he was not going to overstep bounds, that he was free to do whatever he wished. The angel took the demon’s wine glass from him lest he slosh anymore, and placed it beside his own.

Now that both hands were free, the angel took things a step further and removed the demon’s glasses, and to his surprise, was met with no protest.

Crowley looked up at him with his snake eyes, and smiled warmly, his teeth flashing.

“Oh, there you are!” Aziraphale announced in mock surprise, much to the demon’s annoyance. His smile turned into a disgusted frown, and he lashed a forked tongue at him.

“I do wish you didn’t hide your eyes so much. They’re beautiful.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and closed them in response, and untucked a hand to point at his hair, snapping his fingers impatiently.

“Less talking, more hair playing.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, and obliged, sinking his fingers into the demon’s soft amber hair, running from his hairline to the top of his head, slowly, relishing in the touch. Wistfully, the angel wondered what it might be like to have ran his fingers through his best friend’s hair when he’d first met him, when it was long and luscious and wild.

But this was just as well.

For hair so short, he half expected to find little horns hidden somewhere in there, it was that thick.

Crowley kept his eyes shut, completely defeating Aziraphale’s point of removing those damned glasses.

Aziraphale ran a finger along his hairline, stopping where his sideburns used to be, and he traced the little tattoo of the entwined snake that he’d always imagined getting to touch. Crowley subconsciously leaned into the touch, letting out a small groan.

“‘Ziraphale …” he breathed.

“Yes?”

Crowley didn’t respond, and Aziraphale was convinced he’d fallen asleep. Or at least, he was talking in his sleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest seemed to confirm it.

That was fast.

The angel continued to play with his hair, brushing a thumb across his temple as he watched his closed eyes for signs of movement. When he appeared to indeed be asleep (although, how could Aziraphale know - he himself never slept before) the angel’s gaze drifted down to the demon’s lips, slightly parted as he breathed softly.

The angel felt suddenly brave, and shifted his body as much as he could without disturbing his friend (and, as much as he could under his weight - for such a lean snake-man, he was surprisingly heavy) and he leaned down, and in one quick movement, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, and pulled away just as quickly.

No reaction. None whatsoever.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale tried after a while, running his thumb across his brow where his lips had just been.

“Mm?” Crowley asked, but didn’t open his eyes.

Aziraphale felt his face grow hot. Crowley must’ve noticed the kiss, and said nothing. He did nothing. Perhaps he didn’t mind it? Or perhaps he simply chose to ignore it?

_‘Well, two could play at that game’_, Aziraphale thought hotly.

“So … are you still planning to run off to Alpha Centauri?”

“Mm, not without you ‘m not.”

_Fuck_.

“Oh …” was all Aziraphale could muster, and he stopped running his fingers through his hair a moment as he played those words over and over in his mind, his skin flushed with a feeling he hadn’t felt since Crowley suggested they run off together in the first place.

He shook his head, shrugging, snapping himself out of it, “I didn’t think you were …serious.”

“I was,” Crowley replied, his eyes still firmly shut, “I am.”

“Surely you wouldn’t want to be trapped on a distant star with only myself as your companion?”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes?” the angel replied hopefully, but he had a feeling the demon was only stopping him in his questioning to tell him to shut up. What happened next took him entirely by surprise.

“I thought I’d lost you …” Crowley began downheartedly as he unfolded his hand to grasp the angel’s over his chest. He finally opened his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at his angel, his gaze focused across the room, “in that fire … didn’t know if it was hellfire or what … I’ve always kept my eye on you, part of the Arrangement, you know, got you out of trouble when needed, and then … I dropped the ball.”

“It wasn’t your fault …” Aziraphale chided.

“It was!” Crowley protested angrily, sitting upright, his head in his hands, his back to Aziraphale, “I told you I wouldn’t even think about you. That look in your eyes … damn it, angel … what if I lost you forever, and that was the last thing I said to you? Angel …”

Crowley turned awkwardly to face him, tears evident in his eyes.

“You’re _all_ I think about …” he admitted mournfully, his voice cracking as he shook his head, “Damn you … damn _me_ …”

Aziraphale didn’t know what came over him, but in that moment, it seemed like the right thing to do.

He kissed him. 

Right on his sorry demon mouth.

Crowley stared back at him, completely bewildered, and not responding in any other way. He didn’t kiss back, he didn’t speak, he didn’t move … nothing.

And so, words came tumbling out of Aziraphale’s mouth, as if he was afraid he’d broken his best friend, his _only_ friend. It was understandable, for in that moment he felt as if he’d broken some unspoken rule, and that things were never going to be right between them again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I crossed a line, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at m-“

Crowley grabbed the angel’s chin, not roughly but firmly, just enough to hold him still, and stopped his babbling with a kiss of his own, softer, more lingering, so much more passionate than the angel could’ve managed, at least not on impulse.

Aziraphale leaned into the kiss, and his hands reached up and took hold of the demon’s shirt collar as they broke apart, gazing softly into each other’s eyes, blue meeting gold.

“Took you long enough,” Crowley huffed, and cocked a brow at him.

If the angel’s wings were out right now, they’d be ruffled.

“Took me long-! Why I-! The nerve-!”

“Loved you since the Garden of Eden, angel,” Crowley said softly, as he brought a hand up to tenderly stroke the angel’s cheek.

Aziraphale decided then to replace his flustered-ness with anger instead, “Look who’s talking, ‘took long enough’! You knew since the first day we met?? And you said nothing???”

“Didn’t want to betray your trust,” Crowley shrugged, pulling away, but only for a moment as he shrugged his way across the sofa so that he could comfortably sit to Aziraphale’s left, where he so often positioned himself, but he left his legs to drape possessively across the angel’s lap.

“Besides,” Crowley continued, “I _go too fast_ for you.”

Aziraphale’s skin flushed even more, and he looked away.

“You’re the only one I ever … for God’s sake, Crowley, we have eternity. I didn’t want to rush things.”

“6,000 years, angel.”

“Oh, all right! You don’t need to keep rubbing it in.”

Silence fell between them as Crowley absently played with a fold in Aziraphale’s coat, and the angel watched him, the pair of them too lost in thought to speak all at once.

“At the Garden?” Aziraphale asked, “Really? I was a bumbling idiot back then. You didn’t even know me. What could’ve possibly- don’t tell me it was … love at first sight?”

He said that with some hope in his voice, the romantic in him practically leaping for joy. Crowley just rolled his eyes, and made an exaggerated noise of disgust.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but no. Though I’ll admit, you did look very attractive swinging a flaming sword around like someone who’s just seen Star Wars for the first time.”

If Aziraphale could get any more flustered, he did at this remark.

“You _saw_ that?” he gaped, and Crowley could only laugh in response at the angel’s embarrassment.

“It was when you gave up your sword to help two strangers,” Crowley said finally, seriously, “knowing that the Almighty wouldn’t like it, that you’d risk possibly falling, all to help those less fortunate than yourself. Such a selfless act. And you’d just become an angel as well. That was quite a risk.”

“So … dare I ask? When did you first … you know … know?”

A small smile played wistfully on the angel’s lips.

“The Blitz.”

“The books.” Crowley realized, feeling incredibly stupid.

“That was a very nice gesture …”

Crowley made a disgusted noise at the word ‘nice’, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I was touched! You really didn’t have to save the books, it wasn’t part of the Arrangement. But you did anyway, because you knew how much they meant to me.”

“This was before you accused me of being too fast.”

“I do apologize, dearest … it was … so many things, that kept me from … well, you know, Heaven and Hell would certainly not approve of such a union, friendship or otherwise, I don’t know … I worried that if it escalated, they’d be hot on our trail in no time, a-and the risk would be far greater …”

“We needn’t worry about that anymore, Aziraphale. We’ve got our own side. They won’t bother us again, at least not for a while. Let’s just … enjoy this. Whatever this is.”

“Do you mean … take our time?”

“Even if it takes another 6,000 years.”

Aziraphale smiled, a breath of relief escaped his lips. But then, he decidedly cocked his head.

“Well, I mean … we did just witness the almost-end-of-the-world though,” he echoed Crowley’s words, “I mean logically, tomorrow’s not always guaranteed, so why waste any more-“

“Now you’re talking!” Crowley cried out enthusiastically, to which Aziraphale laughed, peppering him with kisses as he pushed him down into the couch.


End file.
